


Rumour Has It

by second_hand_heaven



Category: DCU
Genre: Anxiety, Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gossip, Identity Porn, Journalism, Lots of Comfort and Love, M/M, Multi, Newspapers, Polyamory, Secret Relationship, Sorry guys, Whoops sorry Clark, and a little suggestive at times, mentions of past Clark Kent/Lois Lane - Freeform, mostly this is really soft, with a sprinkling of angst, without the porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 02:51:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18929809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/second_hand_heaven/pseuds/second_hand_heaven
Summary: The Trinity are in a semi-secret relationship. Newspapers and gossip mags make assumptions about the pairings amongst the trio, much to their amusement and occasional disdain.





	Rumour Has It

**Author's Note:**

> tagged m for some suggestive moments, although nothing too explicit occurs
> 
> -nova xx

 

‘ _ Bad Luck, Chuck: Lois Lane ditches reporter beau for Superman!’ _

“Well, they're partly right,” Lois says, tossing the newspaper on the coffee table. Clark doesn’t say anything, there’s not much more to say. It’s all been said, months earlier, thankfully without any raised voices or insults. And he is thankful for that, thankful for her understanding. It can’t be easy when your boyfriend falls in love with two other people, and yet Lois’s grace never faltered. 

Her apartment looks the same as it did three months ago, although there's a vase of fresh gerberas on the kitchen counter. Someone new, Clark thinks, and he's happy for her. Truly. One day soon she might even tell him about them. For now at least, he’s happy that she can be in the same room with him without him needing any superhuman abilities to stay alive and in one piece. 

Clark shifts his weight from one foot to another. “Thanks for letting me come grab the last of my stuff.” Lois had already packed his things for him, so this visit’s more of a formality than a necessity. She could have brought it to work and passed the cardboard box of memories to him there, on neutral ground, but instead she invited him over. 

She stands from the couch and crosses the room toward him. “Just because we're not together anymore, doesn't mean we're enemies, Smallville.”

He's thankful for that, not just because he's got enough enemies to deal with. Lois would make a formidable foe, but she's much better as his friend. 

“Bruce did offer to send a cat-burglar around to grab it. I think he was joking? I can never tell.” He clears his throat. “But I’m relieved we don’t have to resort to that.” 

“You're happy?” she asks, and Clark is sure he isn’t imagining a little wistfulness in her voice. 

He nods, feeling a sappy smile tugging at his lips. “I really am.”

She nods once, assured. “Good, because I am not above ruining him in a few scathing editorials if he hurts you.”

“Thank you, but I can write my own scathing articles.” He props the cardboard box against his hip. 

She shoves playfully at his shoulder, a familiar move that has Clark’s chest aching a little inside. “Sure you can.”

“And you don't feel the need to ruin Diana?”

“I don't think I could, even if I tried. And besides,” she says, breaking out a sly smile, “if you screw that up, I will be first in line for the chance to date her.”

He doesn't doubt it. He can hardly blame her though, Diana sure is something. And Bruce… He can't fight the smile that the thought of his lovers brings. “I'll see you Monday?”

“Not if I see you first,” she jokes, a knowing grin spread across her lips. 

Clark shakes his head as he walks out the door, chest light and blooming with warmth.

* * *

 

Clark is typing away at his laptop, Bruce is reading a novel by lamplight, and Diana's scrolling through some news sites on her Wayne Tech tablet. It's so domestic that it borders on ridiculous, given their secret identities, but Diana wouldn’t trade these quiet moments for anything. 

An article title catches her eye. _The_ _New Mr Superman, nee Wayne._ It's some cheesy gossip page, hardly accurate to call it journalism, but the image in the thumbnail looks legitimate. She opens the article, the image spreading across the screen. 

Diana glances up from her tablet. “Bruce Wayne was seen kissing Superman, and Wonder Woman is apparently displeased. No mention of whether she's jealous of Bruce or Superman,” she reads aloud. The article is partly right, of course: she is displeased, displeased they got caught. 

Clark’s fingers still on the keyboard, a blush growing on his cheeks. Bruce stubbornly keeps reading, eyes mechanically skipping back and forth across the page. 

“You don't need me to remind you to be more careful about your identities,” Diana says, “especially now we're…” whatever they were. Together? Dating? Partners? Each phrase she thinks of seems to be lacking. ‘Profound unity’ sounds so pompous, but it's the closest she's got at pinning down exactly what this is. 

Bruce gently closes his book and processing on the bedside table. “I planned it.”

She tries to hide her surprise. “Bruce?” 

Clark looks equally shocked. Used. Bruce better explain himself before Diana walks, or flies, out of here for tonight. 

“Bruce Wayne needed another fifteen minutes in the spotlight,” he says, as though it's an appropriate answer. “And Superman could have done with some better press.”

Diana resists the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. “You could have told us.” No, he should have told them. Their relationship already has too many secrets.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce says, and it almost catches Diana off-guard. “This was from a few weeks ago, months maybe.”

Diana waits, weighing up Bruce’s words. There’s no ‘maybe’ about when it was taken, Bruce would know the exact timestamp of the shot, of the anonymous email sent to the news site. But she’s not in the mood for a fight, and it seems like Bruce gets the idea that she’s not pleased with how this went down, so she doesn’t push. Bruce has learned his lesson, she hopes. “We could have helped, “ she suggests then. “Next time, we'll do something much more outrageous.”

Clark laughs at that, rich and sweet. “Sounds perfect.” He closes his laptop and passes it to Bruce, who adds it to the precarious pile on his nightstand. 

Not quite perfect, Diana thinks, but she’s long past hoping for perfect, quite content with the imperfection that is her life with Clark and Bruce. “Goodnight,” she says, shuffling further under Bruce’s luxurious covers. 

Bruce grunts and switches off the lamp. 

* * *

“Clark?”

The newspaper quivers in Clark's grasp. He can feel Bruce and Diana's eyes on him, but he can't stop staring at the page. His dinner seems ready to escape his stomach, churning and burning at his throat, all acid and disgust. 

“Ignore it, Clark.” 

He's trying, but the headline keeps swirling through his mind. 

Diana tugs the newspaper from his shaking hands, folding it and placing it on the coffee table. “It's just an article, my love.”

He knows that. He  _ knows, _ okay? He knows what an article is. He knows how to write them. He knows that people write mean-spirited, salacious articles all the time. But knowing doesn't stop the loathing panic that washes over him. 

_ Bruce Wayne's New Boy-Toy: How Long Will This One Last?  _

It's just a headline, but it hurts. It hurts because he's scared that it's true. How long  _ will _ it last? Can it last? He's never dated two people at once before. He's never had to juggle so many different identities in one relationship. He's never dated someone so publicly, not like this. How can Bruce stand it? 

And Bruce, tight-lipped when it comes to concessions—admissions—of affection makes it all the more difficult. It’s not Bruce’s fault, Clark knows it, but he needs to know where he stands sometimes when he feels like he’s being washed away. 

“Clark?” Bruce tries, and Clark tries too, tries to still his shaking hands, tries to look up at his lovers standing around him, tries to believe that he is loved when it seems like everything is telling him otherwise. 

Diana’s hand slips down Clark’s back, radiating warmth in small circles as Clark tries to remember how to breathe. 

“Clark, look at me.” Bruce holds Clark's face in his hands, forcing Clark to meet his eyes. “I love you. I love you so much. I love Diana, and she loves you too. I love what we have and I will fight to keep it, always. No gossip rag can take that away.”

Clark believes it, because he believes in Bruce. Always. 

Bruce picks up the paper and tosses it into the fireplace. The three of them watch the flames chew away at the headline until it's nothing more than ash. 

“I wasn’t finished reading that,” Clark mutters, earning a soft laugh from Diana. 

She lays her head across Clark’s shoulder, her hair tickling his neck. “You’re okay,” she says, her hand still rubbing circles across his back.

Bruce presses a kiss to Clark's forehead. “Come on, let's go to bed.”

“Don't you-?” It's a patrol night, Clark is pretty sure of that. 

“Batgirl and Red Robin will cover it. Oracle can alert me if they need back-up.” Bruce is… delegating. Clark shouldn't be so surprised, Bruce has been delegating ever since he took on a young Dick as his partner. But this isn't an emergency… or is it? Maybe it is, he thinks a little slowly, because he’d do the same if roles were reversed. 

Bruce will go out tomorrow night, and the next. But tonight, tonight Bruce will stay, Clark knows, and Clark knows why. 

Priorities. 

Diana takes his hand. “Come on, my love.”

* * *

Amsterdam is always lovely in the spring and the little café Bruce whisks Clark and her away to for lunch is no exception. The food is beautiful, much like the views, although the company, Diana must profess, is even more so. Even if Clark is currently scrolling through his phone as his coffee cools.

“No phones at the table,” Diana chides, but there’s no real heat to her voice. It’s rare enough they get to spend time together like this, away from the cities, the people that demand their ongoing attention, so she soaks it up as much as she can. 

“Sorry, D. I just saw an article come up about Bruce.”

“Oh?”

_ “‘Bruce Wayne and Batman, Missing In Action. What does it mean? Both Mr Wayne and the Gotham Bat were absent from the city last weekend. So what does that mean? Obviously, Mr Wayne and the Batman are not the same person-’" _

Bruce interrupts, “because the butts don't match?”

Clark's eyes skim down the page. “Uhh no. It says here that both you and Batman have been seen in the same place at the same time.” Clark squints at the image featured in the article. “Is that Dick?”

Bruce snatches the phone from Clark's grasp. “J’onn, I think.”

Diana rolls her eyes at her boys as Clark takes his phone back. “Since you and Batman are apparently different people, the only conclusion is that-” he breaks off with a laugh, “-that you're secretly sleeping with Batman!”

“Bruce!” Diana gasps, “why didn't you tell us?” 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “You know why.” 

He glances around the restaurant subtly, Diana can only see it from the sharpness of his darting gaze. Seemingly pleased with his assessment, he places one hand on the table. It’s innocent, subtle enough, but Diana catches his meaning with ease. She places her hand atop of Bruce’s, her thumb stroking the scarred flesh of Bruce’s knuckles. The warmth of Clark’s hand engulfs her own and together, safe in this little café, a cocoon, they’re holding hands as easily as breathing. And it’s nice, so nice as the afternoon sun laps at their skin that Diana is certain that this is what peace feels like. 

* * *

“What’s new in the world of superhero gossip, Diana?” Bruce asks one night after they’ve finished up the dishes and have settled back at the table with tea and coffee and good company. They’ve been coming around more and more lately, something Bruce appreciates, especially on nights like these when his kids all have plans. 

Diana looks up from where she’s standing at the end of the table, flipping through the paper until she finds the gossip columns. “Superman and Wonder Woman are engaged, and apparently I am Bruce Wayne's ‘exotic plaything’. He then goes on to describe my breasts for two paragraphs.”

“Only two?” Bruce watches as Clark crowds in behind her, hands sliding up Diana's stomach to cup her breasts through her thin T-shirt. Or rather, one of Clark's T-shirts that she's claimed as her own for a pyjama top. “I could write a whole thesis on them.”

“Harvard referencing?” She arches into his touch, fitting perfectly beneath Clark’s hands, and damn does Bruce like to see his lovers like this, so soft and seductive and carefree. 

“Oxford,” Clark says, thumbing over her nipples, “much easier to use footnotes.”

Bruce takes another sip of his tea, enjoying the show, but there’s something still bothering him from Diana’s explanation.  _ Exotic. _ How dare they. “Do I own that paper?”

“I don't think so. He's a-” her words falter as Clark nips at her throat “-a freelancer.”

“Hmm. Perhaps Wayne Enterprise should help him with his PR?”

“Bruce, you can't just ruin the career of everyone who insults me.”

He places the teacup back in its saucer. “Why not?”

“Because.” Her jaw clenches, trying to keep those little sounds trapped away, silent, those little sounds that Bruce longs to hear. 

“Hmm, I don't think that's a proper answer,” Clark murmurs against her neck, “try again.”

Bruce pushes away from the table and stands, moving across the room to his maddening lovers. Maybe they have time for a quick- 

He checks his watch. Shame. Time to head down to the Cave. “Don't have too much fun while I'm gone.” He knows they will, and it’s fine with him, but it’s a little ritual they always have on nights that turn out like this. Clark and Diana have their own kind of fun, something he’s more than eager to hear details of when he returns. 

They press a kiss to either cheek in a ridiculously synchronised move that brings a smile to his lips. 

Diana strokes Bruce’s jawline. “Be safe.”

“If you need-” Clark tries, but Bruce cuts him off. 

“Don't you have your own city to save?” 

Clark shrugs, arms still wrapped around Diana’s waist. “Not tonight. Conner wanted a chance to prove he could watch Metropolis.”

And Clark was letting him? Bruce is... pleased. Maybe the Boy Scout will finally learn to delegate. “Hnn,” he says, before he heads down to the Cave, a lightness bursting in his chest. 

* * *

They have breakfast together in Clark's cramped apartment Tuesday morning. Bruce barely managed an hour of sleep, between work and Bane and a romp between Clark's impossibly soft sheets that Bruce bought him last month. 

Diana's scrolling through the Gotham Gazette over her omelette. “We made the society pages again.”

“What's the verdict this time?” Bruce asks, not looking up from his paperwork.

“You and Clark are together, but I'm your beard.”

“Hnn. Well I do like having you on my face.”

Clark spits out his coffee. It drips from his chin, staining the front of his shirt. 

Bruce looks up at him, eyebrow raised in a wholly unimpressed expression. Diana swats him with the newspaper, though there's a fond smile on her lips. “You can't say those things, Bruce. You know how delicate our Clark is.”

“Delicate?” Clark's says, indignant at the suggestion. 

“What's the filthiest thing to come out of your mouth? Darn?” It's far from the truth and Bruce knows it. It doesn't stopping him pushing, though. His morning schedule is clear, and he's in the mood for some fun. 

Diana seems to agree. “Maybe we should see what filthy things we can make him say?”

Bruce slides off his stool and moves behind Clark. “I think that's a marvellous idea.”

They both converge on Clark, predatory in the best way possible. Light, demanding touches make Clark melt beneath them, and though this isn’t how Bruce imagined his morning going, he can’t exactly complain at this turn of events. 

“I have to go into the Planet today,” Clark says, but he doesn't push either of them away. 

“The Daily Planet? Don't I own that paper, Diana?”

A playful smile teases at her lips. “I believe you do, my darling.”

“Maybe I can convince Perry to let you come in late today?” He slips a hand beneath the waistband of Clark's slacks. 

“Bru-uce,” he whines, thrusting forward into Bruce's hand. 

“You can punish me later,” Bruce offers.

“Promise?” The hopefulness of Clark’s tone sending a shiver through Bruce. That’s a promise he’s more than happy to deliver on, and that Bruce is more than happy to receive. 

Diana smirks, hands sliding down Clark's back. “Let's have some fun.”

* * *

Clark's phone pings. It's a slow day at the Planet, so he doesn't feel guilty checking it. A message from Hal. A link, followed by some peaches and eggplants. Odd. He opens it and is lead to a site called ‘Behind the Mask’. The website calls itself a conspiracy theory platform, looking specifically at heroes. Not just focusing on secret identities, bloggers stipulate about agendas, villains, and... relationships? One headline sticks out at him. Oh no....

_ The Trinity—A Trio? Are Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman all in a relationship?  _

The post—he hesitates to call it an article—displays numerous images of the heroes side by side with varying degrees of distortion. From this, it claimed that the three heroes were in an intimate relationship. They weren't wrong, but Clark feels panic rising in his throat. If this information got out… 

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the brewing anxiety. It's just a conspiracy article, but maybe it's worth having Bruce look into the source, just to be on the safe side. 

“Hey B, what do you know about ‘behind the mask’?”

There’s a grunt, and then, “ _ The conspiracy theory site? Why do you ask? _ ”

“I'll send you the link,” he says, and he does. Clark listens carefully to his reaction. There's no audible surprise from Bruce, who brushes off the article as unimportant. That's odd. He looks at the post again. Someone with the username ‘thebuttsmatch’. No… Could it be? 

A grin spills across Clark's face. It has to be. Clark cracks his knuckles. Two can play at that game, he thinks as he opens a new document and starts typing. 

* * *

It's a quiet day at Wayne Enterprise. Bruce is catching up on paperwork in his office when Diana walks through the door, her red scarf floating behind her like a cape. 

“Diana,” he says, brow furrowed, “I wasn't expecting you today.” He pushes away from his desk and crosses the room to meet her. Not that he isn't glad to see her, but it's not like her to come into his office like this. Stranger still, there's a newspaper in her hand. The Daily Planet, to be precise. “What's this?”

“Clark’s latest article,” Diana informs him, thrusting the paper forward, open to page 9.

‘ _ Let’s Talk About You, You, and Me: My Life in a Polyamorous Triad’ _

“Hmm. I guess the secret is out.” They aren't named in the article, but it wouldn't take the world's greatest detective to figure out who Clark means. There aren't that many handsome billionaires in Gotham, after all. 

“And you’re… okay?”

He smiles at her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. “More than okay.” He pecks a kiss to her lips. “And you?”

“I'm glad the world can see the truth. Our truth.”

He walks over to his desk, reaching for the intercom. 

“What are you doing?” Diana asks. 

“We should celebrate.” He switches on the intercom. “Jones? Get me a line to the Daily Planet.” A pause. “Dalia, how are you today? Lovely. Yes, Clark please, if you'd be so kind. Clark? Meet us at Wayne Enterprise, now. Bring some champagne.”

A few moments later, Jones buzzes him. _ “Mr Wayne, I've got a Mr Kent to see you. Shall I send him in?” _

“Of course. He and Ms Prince are always to be sent in, no questions asked.”

_ “Duly noted, sir.” _

Clark strides in, bottle in hand. “I take it that you've seen the news?”

“Congratulations,” Bruce says, “it appears you've found yourself two stunning partners.”

“I have.” He kisses Diana, then Bruce. “I'm so lucky to have you both.”

The feeling is mutual. Bruce quirks an eyebrow at Clark’s empty hand. “You did bring glasses too, right?”

A blush spreads across Clark's cheeks and he flies from the room, back in barely a moment with three coffee mugs in hand. 

“I suppose these will do.”

Diana uncorks the bottle, careful to keep the frothing to a minimum. She pours the champagne into the mugs, taking the ‘world's okayest dad’ mug for herself. “To us.”

“Cheers,” Clark says. Bruce and Diana echo him, clinking the porcelain mugs together with more of a ‘clunk’.

“It was a little risky to run such a scandalous article,” Bruce says, keeping his voice light. 

But Clark doesn’t rise to the bait. “Need I remind you of ‘thebuttsmatch’, Bruce?” 

“Ah.” Bruce wants to kiss that smug look right off Clark’s lips. 

“Either way,” Diana says, “I’m glad.” She takes another sip, and turns to Bruce with a predatory smile. “Does this mean we can have some fun in your office now?”

Bruce grunts softly, but he’s not opposed to the idea. Far from it. 

Clark edges into Bruce’s space and Bruce lets himself be walked back toward his desk until the back of his knees hit the edge. “We haven't christened this desk, I don't think.”

“We haven't christened it  _ yet,”  _ Diana smirks, sliding onto the desk beside Bruce. Her skirt rides up, revealing more of her tantalising thighs, thighs Bruce wants to be buried between. She leans in, breathy ghosting across the shell of his ear. “I think it’s about time we did.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, but he won’t say no. Not to this hot, albeit cliched, fantasy of his coming true. “You two will be the death of me.” 

Clark grins, crowding in between Bruce’s spread legs. “Now wouldn’t that be an interesting headline?” 

 

_ FIN _

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos always welcome
> 
> -nova xx


End file.
